Sidor som bilder
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors]

of Ages; and hence their daily desire is, Lead me to the rock that is higher than I."

3. The eagle mounts up strongly, vehemently, and violently; it is a strong bird, and, when it hath got the prey, it flies with violence. Thus doth the believer mount up: "For the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force." With such earnestness and intentness doth he mount up towards heaven, that no difficulty in the way shall hinder him.

4. The eagle mounts up swiftly and suddenly: this follows upon the other; for its strength and violence in flying infers celerity: so doth the believer, under the lively influences of the Spirit. O how quick is his motion!" Or ever he is aware, his soul makes him like the chariots of Amminadab." It is a speedy flight that the believer makes towards Christ; he mounts swiftly.

5. The eagle mounts up gradually: though its flight be strong and swift, yet it is gradual; it comes not to the utmost extent of its motion, but by degrees: so the believer mounts gradually; he goes from strength to strength, till he appear before God in Zion.—(Psa. lxxxiv. 6.) He flies still higher and higher; and so the object of his aim draws nearer and nearer to him, while he comes to more and more knowledge of God, and more and more communion with him, till faith and hope land in vision and fruition.

6. The eagle mounts up frequently and daily; and, in respect of its mounting disposition, constantly: so it is with the believer; he is always mounting, he hath still a mounting disposition, and he is constantly endeavouring to be actually mounting. The carnal professor never mounts up but about the time of a communion, or the time of some sore affliction or conviction; and, whenever these seasons are over, he goes as fast down as he went up. But it is the be. liever's trade of life to be mounting on week-days as well as on Sabbath-days; and on ordinary Sabbaths as well as communion Sabbaths.

V. The next thing is, To show the reasons why the believer, who hath his strength renewed, mounts up on wings like an eagle.

1. Because he hath an eagle's nature. I said before, that the believer mounts up naturally: why? because he hath an eagle's nature. It is the natural disposition of an eagle to fly upward; so the believer hath a disposition to mount up to God, he being a new creature: "If any man be in Christ he is a new creature."-(2 Cor. v. 17.) This new nature ascends to heaven from whence it descended; the old nature goes always downward, but the new nature mounts upward. If you want the new nature, you want the mounting disposition.

2. He mounts up on wings like an eagle, because he hath an eagle's eye: so the believer, he can see that invisible Sun which no natural eye can attain to: "The poor in spirit, and pure in heart, sha'l see God."--(Matt. v. 3, 8.) The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him."—(1 Cor. ii. 14.) But the believer, knowing the mind of Christ, sees farther than the world; he sees the King in his beauty, and the land afar off. When he sees these things, he cannot but

[blocks in formation]

64

3. He mounts up on wings like an eagle, because he hath his nest on high like an eagle: no wonder than he flies up, for his nest, I mean his seat, his food, his treasure, his heart, his head, his all is above. His seat is above. The believing eagle cannot find himself safe while here below; therefore he flies to the Rock of Ages, and there he sits. His food is above. Christ is his food: My flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed." Now, his food being above," where the carcase is, thither will the eagles be gathered together." His treasure is above-he hath an inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, that is reserved in heaven for him; and up he must to visit his inheritance. His heart is above, where his treasure is; yea, Christ hath gotten his heart a-keeping, and he must be where his heart is. And in a word, his head is above : and must not the members be where the head is? And must not the stones of the building be where the foundation is? Christ is the head corner-stone, His All is above: Christ is all in all to him; and therefore mount he must; for this eagle hath a rich nest above.

4. He mounts up on wings as an eagle, because his strength is renewed like the eagle's: "who satisfies thy soul with good things; so that thy strength is renewed like the eagle's."—(Psa. iii. 5.) Therefore, having renewed his strength, he mounts up on wings like the eagle. Some say the eagle is renewed when it casts its old feathers and gets new ones; so the believer gets the old feathers of corruption removed, and puts on the new man.— 1.—(Eph. iv. 24.) Others say the eagle's youth is renewed when, its stomach being thirsty, it drinks the blood of the prey; and so the believer gets his strength renewed by drinking the blood of Christ by faith.-(Eph. iv. 13.) It is in the unity of the faith that he comes to the perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ. If you have got a drink of the blood of Christ this day, to be sure your strength will be renewed; and, if your strength be renewed, you cannot but be mounting up on wings as an eagle.

NOVELTIES IN RELIGION.

[WE have, in the following article from the Christian Observer, a good description of a class of characters too common among us. Reader, are you one of those troubled with "itching ears ?" If so, then look at yourself in this daguerreotype. Standing in the light of God's Word, you cast a shadow which this article faithfully presents and holds up to your gaze.]

The state of mind which we speak of in this ar ticle, is entirely different from a common and innocent desire for knowledge, in its nature, in its origin, in its influence on the character and life. It is not the love of truth and duty. It is not an earnest wish to discover that which is essential to the proper de

NOVELTIES IN RELIGION.

velopment of the affections. It is not the delight of an inquiring soul holding fellowship with nature and with God. It is a restless passion, ever clamorous for that which is new, merely because it is new; and weary of that which is old, merely because it is old. These lovers of novelty find gratification, not in discovery, but in change; not in the addition of a useful planet to our system, but in the wonder which its fresh light awakens; and for every luminary thus discovered, they would have an old or e quenched. They have no taste for the pleasure which results from the quiet performance of known duty, from the thorough study and application of their own mysterious nature and immortal destiny, and from an earnest and effectual preparation for the tribunal before which they must soon stand. Weary of the old world of thought, with its familiar sun, and ever-varying landscapes, and exhaustless beauty, they desire a new one to awaken feeling in their torpid hearts. Tired of hearing perpetually of that God who of old laid the foundations of the earth, and hath appointed a day in which he will judge the world in righteousness, they long to hear some "setter forth of strange gods." Disgusted with the Bible and the gospel of yesterday, they demand a gospel of to-day, and a revelation that shall be made, through perverted and unsanctified minds, in successive instalments to the end of time. They are never happier than when agitated by some unprecedented absurdity, which they have neither the patience to examine nor the ability to comprehend. They live in a scene of useless agitation, ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth. They ask for novelty as the drunkard for intoxicating drink, that they may forget themselves, the truth, and God, in the dreams of a heated imagination. Their notions of progress consist in renouncing all that has been obtained by laborious investigation, to seize upon some questionable invention. According to this, we are ever to be new beginners, raw and green. The scientific idea of progress is to adhere to the established basis of ascertained truth, and to the continually enlarging boundaries of what is already secured. This can be done only by follow ng the old rule, "to keep what you have, and get what you can."

But it may be said that this state of mind is at least innocent, if it is not commendable. It may, perhaps, seem so to those who have not made it the subject of much reflection; but it is certain that they are mistaken. For, surely, no passion or affection of the mind which is not under the control of the divine law-which wanders restlessly about, or stands idle in the market-place waiting for some new gratification that can be obtained without the price of labour-which is applied to no useful purpose, and produces no valuable results-can be altogether innocent. But it is, in truth, worse than it at first seems; it is not merely negatively sinful, it is a positive evil, and produces unspeakable mischief in the Church and in the world. When the desire for perpetual change in religion has become the ruling passion, it places a man in a false relation to every thing within and without. It gives a wrong direction and character to the thoughts. It hinders self-examination, self-knowledge, and self-culture. It interrupts the proper business of religion. It produces uncertainty and instability of moral character, and leaves the soul without strength or consolation amidst the contradictions of the world, the sudden changes of this stormy life, and the struggles of the last hour. It turns the Church into a debating society, and makes the intercourse of those who should be of the same mind and judgment painfully unedifying. It exerts a fatal influence on

387

personal piety, and upon all the relations of life. It fills the Church and State with idle, ignorant, gossiping, and noisy declaimers, who desire to be teachers of the law, while they understand neither what they say nor whereof they affirm. Under the influence of such a principle, a man's religion can have no foundation nor symmetry, his graces no root, his hopes no sanction, his professions no sincerity, his religious character no value. He loses the substance of truth in his vain pursuit of shadows. He profanes the temple of God by his unhallowed curiosity, and makes a Christian profession contemptible by his foolish inconsistency. What, then, is the moral character of a state of mind which produces all these dreadful results ?"

May all our readers be delivered from this evil principle-this weakness, not of the flesh, but of the spirit-this source of failure in duty, of feebleness in the hour of trial, of cowardice and terror in death. And, to fortify themselves against all temptations to cherish this spirit, let them remember, that although in art, in science, in practical life, new and important truths may be brought to light from day to day, yet in religion every thing of highest value to man is old, and that novelty is a presumptive evidence of falsehood. The Locrians, it is said, entertained such a dread of change, that every one who proposed a new law was compelled to do so with a halter about his neck, that, it his proposition were rejected, he might be immediately hung. If such a custom could be enforced among us, there would be fewer novelties in the science of religion. What we want with respect to the Bible, which is the source of all our religious knowledge, is, as John Norton once said, not "new light, but new sight;" not additional revelations, but a clear and deeper knowledge of the written Word of God; not the learned speculations of uninspired men, but a better understanding of the testimony of the first witness, whom God sent forth with miraculous powers to spread His word among the nations. How many old and salutary truths, beautiful as the stars, and enduring as eternity, invite our study, and promise high intellectual as well as spiritual delight; while we go about with gaping curiosity, asking of all we meet, Who will show us any good?" It is one of the devil's masterpieces and chief deceiving tricks, says Luther, to draw us away from the Bible, and to make us think that there is any thing of greater importance than the hearing, the reading, and the meditating upon God's Word, wherein all our welfare and salvation, both temporal and eternal, consist. This book contains a wisdom that no man is able fully to comprehend, We have only the first-fruits; and, when we fancy that all is exhausted, we have scarcely mastered the simple rudiments of the divine oracle."

[ocr errors]

Our first care, then, should be to understand as fully as possible the holy and venerable Book of Life; and every thing is an impertinence which renders us indifferent to its claims or forgetful of its teachings. The speculations of learned men possess their value, The views which a high and advancing culture, with the aid of an untrammelled press, is continually spreading before us, demand a passing notice; but should never be regarded as of sufficient importance to interrupt for a day our diligent study of God's Word, or to awaken a doubt of the absolute sufficiency of its teaching for all the moral and spiritual wants of mankind. The religion of the Bible, by which alone we can be rendered happy in this world, or prepared for the world to come, consists not in new revelations, new doctrines, new theories; not in as cending up to heaven to bring Christ down; not in descending into the deep to bring Christ up from the dead, nor in going across the sea to find something of

which our philosophy has never dreamed; not in searching into those hidden things which God has kept in his own power, but in righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost; in meek and grateful obedience to the system of doctrine which we have heard from the beginning; in holy love to God, and in justice, faithfulness, and charity to man; in the steady and persevering discharge of the ever-recurring duties of our Christian calling; in patient hope, and in deep communion with the powers of the world to come; in daily preparation for the hour which shall separate us from earth, and reveal the glories and the terrors of the future state. He that has the comforts and the excitement of such a religion will feel no want of those poor novelties, by which the lovers of pleasure are cheated of truth and peace, nor at last be compelled to exclaim in bitterness of soul: "How have I hated instruction, and my heart despised re

proof; and have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined my ear to them that instructed me!"

TRAVELLING CLERGYMEN.

BY THE REV. J. LEAVITT.

ONCE we entertained an angel. It happened in this wise. My father was a country minister, and his parish lay in a lovely region of country west of the Green Mountains, on the high road from the Eastern States to the Springs. Often would ministers drive up to the door in their gigs, having previously ascertained by inquiry where the parish pastor lived, and calling to us boys at the door would say, "Does Mr. live here?" On being answered in the affirmative, they would ask again, "Does he keep ministers' tavern ?"—that is, does he entertain ministers for nothing? And being answered in the same way, they would add, “Well, take my horse and give him four quarts of oats to night, and don't water him till he gets cool." With these laconic intimations that they felt quite at home, they would walk in to enjoy the entertainment kept for the "man," while we took care of the "beast."

Now, all this seemed sufficiently cool, not to say presuming, on the part of entire strangers; but it was the custom, and no one ever went away without an invitation, and a strong resolution, to call again, if he ever passed that way.

But about the angel. He was not travelling to the Springs, but was an angel of the Churches-a messenger sent by some one of the benevolent institutions of the day to receive the alms of God's people. Some called him a beggar; others, an agent: I have called him an angel-which title he deserved, as the sequel will show. It was in winter, and about the middle of the week, when he arrived: we had sickness in the family, and he came to stay through the week, and over the Sabbath; and would it have been strange if we had felt that his room was more desirable than his company, under such circumstances? Would it have been uncivil or unkind to have told him that it was very inconvenient for us to have him staying at our house, and we would prefer to quarter him among the people? However that may be, we preferred to keep him, and make him as comfortable as we could.

He stayed. One after another of the family was taken sick; the parents were confined to bed; the

children were down; the servant gave in and went to bed; and the travelling minister, who had turned in to tarry with us, was the only well person in the house. And what did he do? Did he call in some of the nearest neighbours, and then look out for more convenient quarters? Not at all. He nursed the sick, as if nursing was his business; he went to the barn and took care of the "cattle," as if he had been brought up at the stable. He split and brought in the fuel, as if he had lived in the woods. He was at hand when he was wanted, and out of the way when he was not. He was active, clever, cheerfulas much at home as if he were among his own children, and not with strangers whom he had never seen before, and whom he might never see again.

father, who was still not able to be out; and, having He stayed over the Sabbath; preached for my seen us in a good degree convalescent, he went on his way rejoicing. His name is remembered wi h delight by the members of that household to this day, though many years have since fled, and that family has been scattered widely; some are as far apart as earth and heaven.

Our folks always kept open door for the Lord's ministers, and they never had reason to regret it. Some of us have been thrown far from home and among strangers, and some of our number have sickened and died among strangers, and the Lord has always surrounded them with kind friends, whose sympathy has proved that our Father in heaven is faithful and true when he says, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me." He has provided friends for us among strangers, and we love to befriend strangers at our gate.

It was an injunction of divine wisdom that we should not be forgetful to entertain strangers, for some had thereby entertained angels unawares. And those who are most "given to hospitality," find real enjoyment in obeying this precept.

There is a vast difference among people on the subject of entertaining strangers. As a plain country minister, I have had frequent opportunities of making comparisons, and the result is this:

When we go to presbytery or synod, or to a religious convention of any sort, in some places the good people seem to vie with each other in seeing who will most freely and handsomely entertain the strangers. Every house is open, every heart is warm, every face is pleasant; and while we stay we are treated as welcome guests; and when we go, it is with repeated and pressing invitations to come again, and never to pass through the place without favouring the family with a call.

On the other hand, I have sometimes gone to other places on such errands, and it has been with extreme difficulty that we could find lodgings, though the ability of Christians to entertain strangers far exceeded that of the people before described. And it is no unusual thing for ministers who have been invited by public notices to attend religious meetings in certain places, with the assurance that entertainment would be provided for them, to find on their arrival that they must seek their entertainment at a

REV. DR. J. M. MASON.

public-house, and pay for it at the rate of a pound a day.

For this there is no excuse. Hospitality is a Christian duty, and those who would, in the last great day, hear the Saviour saying unto them, "I was a stranger and ye took me in," must love to entertain Christ's friends, whether they come with the homely farb of the country or the polished exterior of city life.

CARES ARE BLESSINGS.

THERE are few who have not many of them ;-few who do not complain of them. But who is better for being without care? Is it the son who is heir to millions, and who never had an earthly wish that is not gratified?-the daughter who has slaves to fan and feed her, and whose caprice law? Can two beings be found more selfish and useless, not to say vicious, than they? Indolent, imbecile, unthankful, -vain, ignorant, prodigal, and corrupt,-persons of this class are tormentors to themselves and others. That parent is very unwise who anticipates every desire, and removes every source of care that may lie in his child's way. It were far better to teach him to moderate his desires, and to labour diligently for himself and for the welfare of others.

Care sobers the mind, and makes it familiar with the realities and responsibilities of life. Care moderates levity, and tends to check the tendencies to recklessness. The man who has business which requires constant attention, and is faithful in giving it the regard to which it is entitled, is kept in a state of mind which is favourable to moral and religious culture. The responsibilities which rest on him are designed to make him thoughtful and serious, and to restrain him from wayward and evil tendencies. The slightest observation will show that the industrial class of society, both among the rich and the poor, are the most virtuous, and are society's pillars and ornaments.

There may be such a thing, no doubt, as too much care. Iron constitutions have been broken, and premature old age or early death has been induced by tasking body and mind beyond the limits of mortal endurance. Many Christians accumulate so many worldly cares around them, that they chill their religious affections and rob their souls of peace. Doubtless a large proportion of the lukewarmness which now reigns amongst the people of God, is to be traced to an inordinate anxiety for increase of worldly estate, and a consequent increase of worldly cares, and perplexities, and labours.

But a proper measure of life's cares is a blessing. The burden which they impose may beni the frame, but the exertion which it makes in bearing it will promote its health and vigour. They may write wrinkles on the brow, but they also inscribe peace and benevolence on the heart. They cannot change the heart, but their tendency is favourable to that work of the Spirit. They cannot sanctify the be liever, but they serve to prevent that levity of mind which is one of the greatest hindrances to progressive holiness, and they enforce lessons of dependence, and

389

cultivate habits of application and effort, which are indispensable to success in the pursuit of any good, whether earthly or heavenly. It is good for parents to have the care which weighs heavily on them in seeking the welfare of their children. It is good for every Christian to have the care of souls pressing constantly on him. The teacher in the Sabbath school-the matron of an asylum, who cares for both body and soul-the missionary to the heathen -every minister of the gospel-all the family of God-are better for the care which they may have for the salvation of souls.-New York Evangelist.

TO A DYING INFANT.
SLEEP, little baby! sleep!
Not in thy cradle bed,

Not on thy mother's breast
Henceforth shall be thy rest-

But with the quiet dead.
Thou weepest, childless mother!

Ay, weep-'twill ease thine heart;
He was thy first born-son-
Thy first-thine only one-

'Tis hard with him to part!

Thou'lt say, "My first-born blessing,
It almost broke my heart
When thou wert forced to go;
And yet for thee, I know,

'Twas better to depart."

Now like a dewdrop shrined
Within a crystal stone,
Thou'rt safe in heaven, my dove!
Safe with the source of love-

The Everlasting One.

And when the hour arrives,

From flesh that sets me free,
Thy spirit may await-
The first at heaven's gate-
To meet and welcome me.

-Caroline Bowles Southey."

REV. DR J. M. MASON. EVERY one, says the late Rev. Dr J. M. Mason of New York, has remarked the mixed and often illassorted company which meet in a public packet or stage-coach. The conversation, with all its variety, is commonly insipid, frequently disgusting, and sometimes insufferable. There are exceptions. An opportunity now and then occurs of spending an hour' in a manner not unworthy of rational beings; and the incidents of a stage-coach may produce or promote salutary impressions.

A few years ago, one of the stages which ply between the two principal cities of the United States of America was filled with a group which could never have been drawn together by mutual choice. In the company was a young man of social temper, affable manners, and considerable information. His accent was barely sufficient to show that the English

was not his native tongue; and a very slight pecu-
liarity in the pronunciation of the th, showed him to
be a Hollander. He had early entered into military/
life, had borne both a Dutch and a French commis-
sion, had seen real service, had travelled, was master
of the English language, and evinced, by his deport-
ment, that he was no stranger to the society of
gentlemen. He had, however, a fault, too common
among military men, and too absurd to find an advo-
cate among men of sense-he swore very profanely
and frequently.

While the horses were changing, a gentleman who
sat on the same seat with him took him by the arm,
and requested the favour of his company in a short
walk. When they were so far retired as not to be
overheard, the former observed," Although I have
not the honour of your acquaintance, I perceive, sir,
that
your habits and feelings are those of a gentleman,
and that nothing can be more repugnant to your
wishes than giving unnecessary pain to any of your
company." He started, and replied, "Most certainly,
sir! I hope I have committed no offence of that
sort?"

"You will pardon me," replied the other, "for pointing out an instance in which you have not altogether avoided it."

66

Sir," said he, "I shall be much your debtor for so friendly an act; for, upon my honour, I cannot conjecture in what I have transgressed."

"If you, sir," continued the former, "had a very dear friend, to whom you were under unspeakable obligations, should you not be deeply wounded by any disrespect to him, or even by hearing his name introduced and used with a frequency of repetition and a levity of air incompatible with the regard due to his character?"

[ocr errors]

Undoubtedly, and I should not permit it; but I know not that I am chargeable with such indecorum to any of your friends."

"Sir, my God is my best friend, to whom I am under infinite obligations. I think you must recollect that you have very frequently, since we commenced our journey, taken his name in vain. This has given to me, and others of the company, severe pain."

[ocr errors]

"Sir," answered he, with very ingenuous emphasis, I have done wrong; I confess the impropriety. I am ashamed of a practice which I am aware has no excuse; but I have imperceptibly fallen into it, and I really swear without being conscious that I do so. I will endeavour to abstain from it in future; and, as you are next to me on the seat, I shall thank you to touch my elbow as often as I trespass." This was agreed upon; the horn sounded, and the travellers resumed their places.

For the space of four or five miles, the officer's elbow was jogged every few seconds. He always coloured, but bowed, and received the hint without the least symptom of displeasure; and, in a few miles more, so mastered his propensity to swearing, that not an oath was heard from his lips for the rest of his journey, which was the greater part of it.

After this, he was more grave; and, having ruminated some time, after surveying first one and then

another of the company, turned to his admonisher, and addressed him thus:

66

You are a clergyman, I presume, sir?" "I am considered as such."

He paused; and then, with a smile, indicated his disbelief in Divine revelation in a way which called for farther conversation on this subject.

He avowed himself an infidel, and an animated conversation followed. At length he exclaimed, "I own I am beaten, completely beaten; I have nothing more to say."

A silence of some minutes succeeded; when the' military traveller said to his theological friend, “I have studied all religions, and have not been able to satisfy myself."

"No, sir," answered he; "there is one religion which you have not yet studied."

66

Pray, sir," cried the officer, roused and eager. "what is that?"

"The religion," replied the other, "of salvation through the redemption of the Son of God; the religion which will sweeten your pleasures and soften your sorrows; which will give peace to your conscience and joy to your heart; which will bear you up under the pressure of evils here, and shed the light of immortality on the gloom of the grave. This religion, I believe, sir, you have yet to study."

The officer put his hands upon his face; then, languidly clasping them, allowed them to fall down. forced a smile, and said, with a sigh, "We must al follow what we think best." His behaviour afterwards was perfectly decorous, but nothing further is known of h.m.

EARLY RISING.

EVERY young man then, who desires to be intelligent, good, and happy, should learn to rise early in the morning. He should do this for various and strong reasons; among which are the following:

1. It is healthy to rise early.-It is scarcely possi ble to find a healthy person, very old, who has not been habitually an early riser. Sickly and infirm old people I know there may be, who have been in the habit, through life, of late rising, but not many healthy ones. The following are the names and ages of several men, most of whom were eminent and re

markably healthy, who were distinguished for early rising. Some of them rose as early as four o'clock in winter and summer; and one or two of them as early as three in summer.

Dr Franklin, 84; John Wesley, 88; Buffon, the naturalist, 81; Stanislaus, King of Poland, 89; Lord Coke, 85; Fuseli the painter, 81; President Chauncey of Harvard College, 81; Washington, 68; Matthew Hale, 68; Dr Priestly, 71; Dr Samuel Bird, 79; Bishop Burnett, 72; James Mason, 100; Lewis Cornaro, over 100.

tertain a doubt on this point? None can, I am sure, 2. It is delightful to rise early-Can any one enwho have tried it. All the early risers I have ever seen find early rising agreeable. One author, in treating on this subject, has the following remarkable words:

"There is no time equal in beauty and freshness to the morning, when Nature has just parted with the gloomy mantle which night had flung over her. The forest leaves sparkle with crystal dew; the flowers raise their rejoicing heads towards the sun;

« FöregåendeFortsätt »